


I Could Be Lonely With You

by foxdeeeeer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Hawke Family (Dragon Age) Feels, Leandra Hawke Dies, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sad Hawke (Dragon Age), The Boys Are Lonely, also kinda post relationship, idk what to tell you, it's just a sad fic y'all, we're in that weird they're-not-dating-but-they're-definitely-in-love feelsy space lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxdeeeeer/pseuds/foxdeeeeer
Summary: One lonely man comforts another.
Relationships: Fenris/Male Hawke
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Fenris

Fenris has always been alone.

Yes, in Tevinter he was never technically alone; he was nearly always in the presence of either Danarius or Hadriana or one of their slaves. He’d been paraded, Danarius’ most prized _possession_. His master saw him as a thing, and his fellow slaves looked on him with a jealousy that made his blood curdle, even still. But as long as he could remember - short-lived as that may be - he’d never felt… connected. To anything. 

The closest he’d come to connection were those few short months with the Fog Warriors. But even then, deep in the back of his mind, he was always waiting for it to end. And after... Even after he’d escaped Danarius, he had been forced to stay alone. Always looking over his shoulder. Always ready to drop everything and fight the magister hounding his steps. 

It was a necessity, it was survival. A side effect of being a wanted man, of being hunted for the markings in his flesh. Making ‘friends’ was never an option when in every shadow lurked a threat, when the faces of the Fog Warriors haunted his dreams, when he always, always, had to be prepared for the worst, for the inevitable.

He’d always been trapped. He could never trust that the next person he saw wouldn’t give in to whatever Danarius was offering for his return. He had always been, unceasingly, alone.

When his default was alone, he’d never had time to consider feeling _lonely_.

But he had been in Kirkwall for some years, now. Squatting in a decrepit mansion and waiting for his former master to finally make his move, to make his presence known. 

And now he knows people. More people than he’d known by name since Seheron, since escaping. He hadn’t had reason to remember people’s names for so long - not when he would be leaving them as soon as he found a better lead. Now he did. 

And yes, some of them are utterly insufferable (a certain blond mage sprung to mind). But he… nearly misses them when they’re away, even the bloody mages. On those days when Hawke _isn’t_ running them from end to end of this Maker-forsaken city, he misses them. He misses him.

Staring into the fire in his empty mansion, Fenris feels different now than all the years he’s spent alone before. 

He isn’t alone, not anymore. But, Maker, is he lonely.


	2. Cedric

Cedric Hawke has never been alone.

Sure, there were those moments in his childhood of quiet, hiding from his parents and his siblings in the loft of the barn. Practicing his whittling when he was young, practicing his control when he was no longer. 

But he has never been _truly_ alone.

There was always his father. Teaching him everything he knew, from cooking to farming to whittling little figures out of wood. Holding his hand when he was scared, and soothing his cries when he thought he couldn’t handle the magic in turmoil inside of him. A standard to hold himself up to.

There was always Bethany. Never a baby, always the first to whack him in the knees when he dared to irritate her or her brother. A shining, smiling face, and a somber, understanding confidant when he wished he couldn’t crush boulders with his fingertips. A gentle reminder that he would be alright.

There was always Carver. Willful, antagonistic, strong Carver. They hadn’t been able to get through to each other for years; words over the head of the other, jealousy on both ends clouding their judgement. But ever, despite their differences, protective of one another. A constant through all the years of change.

There was always his mother. Raising him to always strive, to learn, to improve, to forgive, to be as assertive as he was gentle. Brushing his hair back and smiling down - and then up - at him when he brought her little carved animals - which she kept on a corner table for years. A force pushing him always to make the best decision.

He has always had his family.

And then there _wasn’t_ his father; he was nineteen, and Malcolm never came home. And then there _wasn’t_ Bethany; he was twenty four, and she was too young. And then there _wasn’t_ Carver; he was twenty five, and he didn’t know what had become of the brother he left with the Wardens for weeks. And now there _isn’t_ his mother; he is too young, and he is tired.

Sitting on his bed, staring at the fire without really seeing it burn, Cedric Hawke is alone. 

He is _alone_ , for the first time in his life. And he doesn’t know how to be.


	3. The Last Chapter

“Just say something. Anything.”

It’s been weeks since he has been alone in a room with Cedric Hawke. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

Fenris watches him for a moment, his slumped shoulders, creased brow, hands gripped so tightly together his knuckles are white. He approaches slowly, struggling to find words, anything to soothe the man sat before him. 

“They say death… is only a journey.” He falters, pausing just beside Hawke, standing over him. Hawke doesn’t look up. “Does that help?”

Hawke sighs softly, releasing the grip he has on his hands to wring one through his hair. He’s changed out of his armor, but his hair is still tangled, matted with blood from the earlier fight. Fenris wonders if Hawke even knows it’s there. “Not really,” Hawke says, continuing to stare into the fire. “But thank you, Fenris.”

Fenris nods, begins to pull away, hesitates. How could he leave Hawke in this condition? How likely is it that someone else would be coming today?  _ I can’t leave him alone, not now, not like this. _

He slowly takes a seat on the bed. Hawke doesn’t shift away, and they sit in silence, the room quiet save for the crackling of the fire, the shallow in and out of their even breaths. Not even the mabari is here; Fenris had passed him sitting outside a locked door on his way in, whining, nuzzling at the crack at the base. It must have been Leandra’s room. 

They stay that way for a long time before Hawke breaks the silence again. “Am I…” He breaks off, sighs deeply, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, his whole frame drooping beside Fenris. His fingers disappear into the dark hair at the crown of his head. “Am I to blame? For not saving her,” he murmurs, just loud enough for Fenris to hear. 

The ache in his voice spears through Fenris, hurting more than any blade. He’s never been good at comfort. “I could say no,” he begins, just as quietly as Cedric, choosing honesty over false platitudes. It tastes just as bitter on his tongue. “But would that help?” He watches Hawke’s profile - his palms still cover his eyes, his face barely visible. Slowly, Hawke shakes his head, but he doesn’t say anything further. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Fenris starts again, tries again. He undoes the buckles of his gauntlets, tentatively rests one hand on the other man's arm. The red of the sash around his wrist complements the red of Cedric Hawke’s tunic. “But I am here.”

Cedric shrugs a shoulder, and for a moment Fenris thinks he’s being rebuffed, that perhaps Cedric does hate him after all. He’d have every right, of course, and it’s not like Fenris knows how to comfort, how to soothe this pain, how to  _ help _ . But then he reaches up, takes Fenris’ hand in his free one, squeezes it gently. He rests them together on his knee, doesn’t let go. Neither does Fenris. The fire is dying, but neither of them move to stoke it.

Fenris stays with Cedric through the night, holds his hand when the sobs begin to wrack through him, puts him to bed when his shoulders sag with his exhaustion as well as his grief. And at last, when Cedric lies curled in his bed, muttering softly in his sleep, Fenris takes a seat between his bed and the window to wait out the night at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Hawke have some pretty glaring differences but in the end, they can be really pretty similarly lonely. I think Fen would have a really hard time with starting to accept friendships into his routine, and realizing that now that he has these connections with other people, he kind of misses it when he's not with them.
> 
> And of course the loss of his entire family would hit my Hawke incredibly hard; I always imagined their family to be close, given how frequently they moved around and how much they had to keep secret, so when it hits him that he doesn't have any of them left... oof.
> 
> Anyway yeah, this was just a little drabble of me Coping™ with death happening and needing to give/receive comfort. Hope you enjoyed it ! :)


End file.
